


sam winchester isn't an idiot

by impravidus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s04e04 Metamorphosis, Español Translation Available, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider, POV Sam Winchester, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus
Summary: Dean has been acting weird. But what makes it weirder is that he’s also acting exactly like himself.~Post Canon Dean time travels back to Season Four and isn't as good at acting like himself as he thinks he is.~
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 27
Kudos: 319





	sam winchester isn't an idiot

Dean has been acting weird. But what makes it weirder is that he’s also acting exactly like himself.

Let’s back up.

Dean has been back from Hell for a couple weeks and, though a little guarded (well, when is he not?) and rough around the edges (okay, more than usual, he knows that that’s also not new for Dean), he has gotten his head in the game almost immediately.

So, when Dean wakes up one day, brows furrowed and talking with a voice far deeper and gravelier than it was the night before, Sam is a little concerned.

“You alright, man? Catch a cold or something?” 

Dean gapes at Sam. A full on, wide eyes, mouth open, slow blinking gawk. He stares at Sam’s face with a confusing mix of shock, surprise, and sadness.

But, as if it had never even happened, Dean bounces back into his usual self. His voice lightens up, maybe a little too much, like he’s making an effort to sound that way and he’s looking at Sam like he’s a ghost.

Sam knows that Dean finding out about his demon blood consumption (it’s _not_ an addiction, he can stop whenever he wants, he can, he can, he _can)_ and partnership with Ruby has torn apart their already threadbare trust. He knows that getting past this won’t be easy, and maybe they never will. But, God, the way Dean is looking at him. He’d rather see him pissed, red faced and angry than the look of far away pity and guilt. 

Sam is expecting a fight. Because there always is one, isn’t there? Why wouldn’t there be after how badly he fucked up?

But there isn’t. Dean just asks him to run over the details of the case and asks him to remind him what shithole town they’re in this time.

Dean is frighteningly friendly and even more confusingly on his game despite how disorientated he looks. The case flies by before Sam can even process what’s happening. 

When they’re driving to get dinner, Sam can’t help but gawk at Dean, just as he had at him that morning. 

“A rugaru, huh?” Sam says, breaking the silence.

Dean hums in response. “Yeah. We’re lucky we got there when we did.”

“How did you…” Sam trails off. He realizes he doesn’t want to push. Obviously Dean had been researching without him. Obviously he knew more than he led him to believe because he doesn’t trust him enough to tell him the details. Even though it’s a case they’re doing _together._

Dean waits for Sam to finish his question and when he doesn’t, he just shakes his head, eyes going back to the road.

They get to the diner in silence, not even fatigued from the hunt. Dean hops out of the car and runs his fingers over the hood, sighing breathily.

Sam notices but doesn’t question it much. Dean does that a lot.

They get a booth, Dean taking the side that faces the door. He orders his usual with extra fries and a fruit cup.

“Fruit cup?” Sam asks when the waitress leaves.

“You know I gotta set a good example for—” Dean snaps his mouth shut, cutting himself off. “Just trying to get you off my back,” he says instead. “Don’t want to hear you bitchin’ about all the grease I’m about to eat.”

Strike One.

Sam narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything. 

And Dean doesn’t say anything. Which is weird. Usually he says _something,_ but he doesn’t. He just drums his fingers on the table and keeps turning to his left as if he’s about to say something and stops himself before he does.

Sam hadn’t expected the silent treatment from Dean, but he’s sure that the only reason he has nothing to say is because there’s nothing he wants to say that can be said in public.

The waitress brings them their food and Dean doesn’t flirt with her. He nods at her politely, calls her “sweetheart” and thanks her.

Strike Two.

Dean eats slower than usual. He takes his time, going back and forth from his fries and burger, even _actually_ eating the fruit. He doesn’t eat all of his fries, though. He leaves a handful still on his plate while he finishes his burger.

“Hey," Sam says. "You know how we met up with Bobby before the salt and burn last weekend?” They didn’t. Sam is testing him.

“Yeah, of course,” ‘Dean’ replies, not even looking up from his burger. 

“Well, I think I left my good silver knife there. You think we can head back before our next case?” He used the silver knife today. He doesn’t have another one.

‘Dean’ rolls his eyes. “Swear I can’t take you anywhere. Yeah, we’ll pass through.”

Strike. Three. 

Sam knows he can’t do anything about the imposter (shapeshifter? demon? some other creature?) so he tries to radiate nonchalance while he eats, keeping up light conversation.

‘Dean’ relaxes as Sam takes control of the conversation, following his lead.

It’s meaningless conversation, peppered with information that the real Dean would know. This Dean gets some things right, some things that are too specific to be faked, and gets some things completely wrong. Sam doesn’t know what to think of it.

The fake Dean’s eyes flicker to the window of the diner and he freezes. “Hey, I left my wallet in the car. I’ll be right back.”

Sam can see the wallet in the fake Dean’s pocket.

When he sees that ‘Dean’ has slipped out of the restaurant, he follows quietly, leaving a few bills on the table. 

“—no idea how glad I am to see you,” he hears ‘Dean’ say.

“I would’ve come sooner but my superiors are keeping close eye on you and me both,” a voice he doesn’t recognize says.

“Don’t worry about it, Cas. You’re here now,” ‘Dean’ says.

_Cas? As in…_

“Shit, are you alright?” ‘Dean’ asks. “This must be… seeing all of your angel buddies, especially now.”

 _Angel,_ Sam notes. This _is_ the Cas he was thinking of.

“It’s nothing I cannot manage,” Cas — _Castiel_ , he corrects himself, _“asshole of the century” Angel of the Lord, Castiel_

‘Dean’ places a palm on Castiel’s cheek, stroking at his cheekbone tenderly. The action throws Sam off guard.

“You shouldn’t have to manage. This… this wasn’t a good time for you,” ‘Dean’ says.

“I’ve had worse.”

‘Dean’ snorts. “Yeah, I know you have. Doesn’t mean I’m not worried.” His hand slides down to his arm, sliding up and down his bicep.

“And you?” he asks. “This time can’t be easy for you either. With Sam and the apocalypse and everything that is yet to come. You… you’ve finally found peace, and now you have been thrown back into the fire.”

“At least I didn’t get thrown back into a literal fire.”

He frowns. “Not funny.”

“Kinda funny,” ‘Dean’ replies with a cheeky grin that is so _Dean_ that Sam doesn’t know what to think.

“Do not joke about such a thing. Even theoretical fires are not ones I want to imagine you in. You have found yourself in too many real ones that I can’t stand to think of losing you.” There’s a long pause. “Not again.”

Fake Dean's smile drops to a serious expression, hand slides to Castiel's waist, pulling him closer. “You ain’t losin’ me. Not now.”

They lean their foreheads against each other’s.

“I know,” the angel says. “I just—”

“I know,” ‘Dean’ says. 

Sam’s head is spinning trying to figure out what the hell is happening. Is this another angel possessing Dean’s body? Angels need vessels, right? But why would Dean say yes? 

Sam can’t imagine that Castiel would be acting like _this_ with a shapeshifter or God forbid a demon, but he doesn’t really know anything about the angel.

“How the hell did this happen in the first place?” ‘Dean’ asks, breaking Sam from his thoughts. 

“Jack is still honing his abilities,” Castiel says slowly. “He didn’t understand you and I’s... rocky... history and he wanted to better understand it, but instead of getting a glimpse into the past, he has sent us back.”

‘Dean’ buries his face into his hands. “Great. You know, sometimes I wish the kid didn’t get his Godly mojo. Then shit like this wouldn’t happen.”

Castiel pulls the fake (not fake? future?) Dean’s hands away from his face. He intertwines his fingers with his and swings them by their side.

“I don’t want to be here,” Dean says softly, head tilting down to rest on Castiel’s shoulder.

“I know. We’ll be home soon.” Castiel kisses his hair.

Suddenly, the two of them freeze. 

Dean pushes away from the angel. “What the hell’s goin’ on here?”

The angel, his posture that was once relaxed and loose now stiff and rigid. “I… do not know.”

“What were you just doing?” Dean demands.

“I do not recall coming here,” Castiel says, voice twinged with pure confusion.

“Don’t you _ever_ fuckin’ touch me like that ever again. You hear me?” Dean says, voice tight.

Castiel does not back up. Instead, he straightens even more. “Do not speak to me that way, Dean Winchester.”

“Fuck you,” Dean spits. 

Castiel disappears leaving Dean to steam alone. He’s about to storm away when he stops. He looks around, eyebrows knit tight as he takes in his surroundings. “How the hell did I get here?”

Sam realizes this is the moment to interject. “Dean!” he calls.

Dean stiffens, face stony. “Sam. What are we doing here?”

“Getting dinner after a case. Remember?”

Dean looks like he’s about to say ‘no,’ but he stops himself. “Right. Of course. I’m…” His brows draw even closer. “I’m stuffed.”

“Let’s head back to the motel,” Sam says.

Dean doesn’t refute.

They head back to the motel in a tense silence.

Dean is acting weird, but at least now, it makes sense.

**Author's Note:**

> [Español Translation!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187591)
> 
> If you want to chat, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


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